#bucky barnesxoc
METICULOUS - PART THREE
A/N: OKAY SO AFTER THIS CHAPTER, IT GETS VERY SERIOUSLY DUB!CON, so if that’s not your thing, this story is about to get very triggering!
Chapter Warnings: soft!dark!bucky, mentions of stalking, language, mentions of violence
Gifs are not mine!
PART THREE
Bucky hates lying. He hates sitting in her car and pretending that the surveillance equipment is not for her. He hates it when he laughs and pretends to be a good man, a man with humane intentions, and promises to check up on Claudia when they leave the refuge. He hates lying to her, but when Elora brings them back and her perfume invades the cabin of the car, Bucky can’t help but continue his lies.
At her door, he’s already holding a small motion sensor in his palm, pretending to be a gallant young man and walking her home, even if they live in the same building. He hates it. He can’t help it. When she wishes him a good day and tells him that she’s happy he came along today, Bucky smiles and nods and tells her it was his pleasure. Then when the door closes, he sticks the tiny motion sensor at the bottom of her door frame and leaves.
He checks his phone, makes sure the device is connected to the sensor, and pockets it. Next time someone comes in or out of that apartment, he’ll be notified.
Bucky doesn’t want to be the bad guy; he doesn’t want to do this, not really, but the need deep inside, to know everything about this girl, to take care of her, is invading his entire being.
When she leaves her apartment the next morning, probably for work – Bucky will find out – he sneaks upstairs and easily breaks into her condo. He’s impressed by what he finds. Colors spring at him, and it’s a stark contrast to the dull grey and white of his place. Pink refrigerator. Forest green walls. Yellow accessories. The foyer and the living room are cozy. He finds a sock under the dark blue couch. He scrolls through her Netflix and finds she’s been binging The Office.
In the kitchen, he finds last night’s meal in the fridge in a plastic Tupperware. Spaghetti. He rummages through her cabinets. She’s into fine, delicate cutlery. He sticks a microphone, the size of his fingernail, under a cabinet beside the oven.
He walks slowly down the hallway, careful not to leave a trace. His feet are silent on the carpet. When he enters her room, he’s assaulted by the smell of her. It invades him. It reaches into every nook and cranny of his mind and fogs him.
His left hand, the metal one, the one he hates and he loves, balls into a fist.
Her bed, a queen size with a dark grey thick duvet, is perfectly made up. Her slippers are neatly by the foot of the bed. There’s a pajama shirt loosely thrown on the side of her vanity chair. She’s got bottles of skin care lingering on her vanity. A few hair ties. And Meatball.
The tiny little kitten raises its head from where he is lying down, rolled into a little ball on Elora’s vanity, the sun from the window drenching him in warmth. Bucky smiles at the kitten and proceeds to her wardrobe. He puts his hand on the knob and stops.
He is not a man who goes through women’s things. He doesn’t want to want it, but he does. He wants to see the clothes he’s never seen her in. Her underwear. Her bras. The things she wears to bed. The things she keeps for naughty, nighttime endeavors.
Bucky’s metal hand forms a fist again. He doesn’t want her to have nighttime endeavors. He doesn’t want her to have someone lying down next to her in that bed and touching her. He wants that person to be him, only him.
Bucky forgets the wardrobe. Another time, he tells himself. Breaking into Elora’s apartment was a treat. The only thing he had planned for this visit was to plant the microphones and the motion sensors. So he sticks a microphone under her vanity and pats Meatball on the head, careful not to disrupt any of the million serums on the desk.
After making sure nothing is out of place, Bucky heads out and carefully locks back the door with his pins. He feels satisfied as he walks down the hall, checking his phone to see if the microphones and sensor are connected, and just as he’s about to pass by the elevator, it dings and opens.
“Bucky!”
He looks up, startled, and immediately registers the stutter in his chest when he spots Elora, standing in straight blue jeans and a big brown sweater. She lights up like a Christmas tree when she sees him, her mouth splitting in a toothy grin. She’s holding a purse and waves at him with her free hand. As she steps out, Bucky notices a man stepping out with her. A man who stands a little too close to her.
“Elora,” Bucky says, smiling tightly.
Then she frowns, cocking her head. “What are you doing on my floor?” she asks.
Bucky laughs, tucking his phone back in his pocket as the elevator dings shut. The man Elora is with just stands there, staring at Bucky.
“I came by to tell you I got a call from the refuge today,” Bucky answers eloquently. “Claudia is doing fine. They plan on putting her up for adopting next week.”
Elora’s mouth falls open in both shock and happiness, and she turns to look up at the man beside her, and Bucky feels the anger rise in him like a tidal wave. Oh, how he wishes he was the man Elora would look at like that.
“That’s the guy I was telling you about,” she tells the man. “Bucky, this is Casper, my… friend.”
The hesitation before the word friend let’s Bucky understand that this Casper guy is maybe, just maybe, a little bit more than a friend. Or a potential boyfriend.
Casper puts his hand out to shake, a tight, unruly smile on his lips. Bucky shakes his hand, but he’d rather be choking that idiot to death.
“That’s such good news,” Elora says as the two men finish shaking hands. “We should celebrate!”
Bucky nods. He can’t help but measure the distance between him and her, between her and Casper. He smells her perfume, and he wants to reach forward and touch her skin.
“Maybe another time,” Casper says, and Bucky can’t help but notice how he answered for her.
“Maybe we should let her decide,” he answers, and it’s harsh. It’s blunt. It’s a punch to Casper’s face.
The man jerks backward as if clocked. “Excuse me?” he asks, tone low, menacing.
Bucky wants to snort. Elora’s face drops into a concerned frown. “Okay,” she says, elongating the word. “Maybe we should… maybe we should reconnect, soon, Bucky, okay?”
Bucky wants to tell her to kick Casper out, not him. He wants to take her purse and push Casper out of the way and walk her to her door. He wants to stuff a knife between Casper’s ribs until he’s taken his last breath in her presence.
“Sure,” Bucky says instead, giving Casper a tight, grueling smile. Then he nods at Elora. “You know my floor. Have yourselves a good night.”
He steps aside and down the hall. He hears their receding steps. His phone beeps, and sure enough, a notification of movement in Elora’s door was registered. When Bucky turns around, he sees the door close shut, and he can’t help but think, I’m going to get rid of him.
